BURGSTEAD.
ON the morrow betimes in the morning the Westland chapmen, who were now
all come, went out from the House of the Face, where they were ever wont
to be lodged, and set up their booths adown the street betwixt gate and
bridge. Gay was the show; for the booths were tilted over with painted
cloths, and the merchants themselves were clad in long gowns of fine
cloth; scarlet, and blue, and white, and green, and black, with broidered
welts of gold and silver; and their knaves were gaily attired in short
coats of divers hues, with silver rings about their arms, and short
swords girt to their sides. People began to gather about these chapmen
at once when they fell to opening their bales and their packs, and
unloading their wains. There had they iron, both in pigs and forged
scrap and nails; steel they had, and silver, both in ingots and vessel;
pearls from over sea; cinnabar and other colours for staining, such as
were not in the mountains: madder from the marshes, and purple of the
sea, and scarlet grain from the holm-oaks by its edge, and woad from the
deep clayey fields of the plain; silken thread also from the outer ocean,
and rare webs of silk, and jars of olive oil, and fine pottery, and
scented woods, and sugar of the cane. But gold they had none with them,
for that they took there; and for weapons, save a few silver-gilt toys,
they had no market.
So presently they fell to chaffer; for the carles brought them little
bags of the river-borne gold, so that the weights and scales were at
work; others had with them scrolls and tallies to tell the number of the
beasts which they had to sell, and the chapmen gave them wares therefor
without beholding the beasts; for they wotted that the Dalesmen lied not
in chaffer. While the day was yet young withal came the Dalesmen from
the mid and nether Dale with their wares and set up their booths; and
they had with them flasks and kegs of the wine which they had to sell;
and bales of the good winter-woven cloth, some grey, some dyed, and
pieces of fine linen; and blades of swords, and knives, and axes of such
fashion as the Westland men used; and golden cups and chains, and fair
rings set with mountain-blue stones, and copper bowls, and vessels gilt
and parcel-gilt, and mountain-blue for staining. There were men of the
Shepherds also with such fleeces as they could spare from the daily
chaffer with the neighbours. And of the Woodlanders were four carles and
a woman with peltries and dressed deer-skins, and a few pieces of
well-carven wood-work for bedsteads and chairs and such like.
Soon was the Burg thronged with folk in all its open places, and all were
eager and merry, and it could not have been told from their demeanour and
countenance that the shadow of a grievous trouble hung over them. True
it was that every man of the Dale and the neighbours was girt with his
sword, or bore spear or axe or other weapon in his hand, and that most
had their bucklers at their backs and their helms on their heads; but
this was ever their custom at all meetings of men, not because they
dreaded war or were fain of strife, but in token that they were free men,
from whom none should take the weapons without battle.
Such were the folk of the land: as for the chapmen, they were well-spoken
and courteous, and blithe with the folk, as they well might be, for they
had good pennyworths of them; yet they dealt with them without using
measureless lying, as behoved folk dealing with simple and proud people;
and many was the tale they told of the tidings of the Cities and the
Plain.
There amongst the throng was the Bride in her maiden’s attire, but girt
with the sword, going from booth to booth with her guests of the
Runaways, and doing those poor people what pleasure she might, and giving
them gifts from the goods there, such as they set their hearts on. And
the more part of the Runaways were about among the people of the Fair;
but Dallach, being still weak, sat on a bench by the door of the House of
the Face looking on well-pleased at all the stir of folk.
Hall-face was gone on the woodland ward; while Face-of-god went among the
folk in his most glorious attire; but he soon betook him to the place of
meeting without the Gate, where Stone-face and some of the elders were
sitting along with the Alderman, beside whom sat the head man of the
merchants, clad in a gown of fine scarlet embroidered with the best work
of the Dale, with a golden chaplet on his head, and a good sword,
golden-hilted, by his side, all which the Alderman had given to it him
that morning. These chiefs were talking together concerning the tidings
of the Plain, and many a tale the guest told to the Dalesmen, some true,
some false. For there had been battles down there, and the fall of
kings, and destruction of people, as oft befalleth in the guileful
Cities. He told them also, in answer to their story of the Dusky Men, of
how men even such-like, but riding on horses, or drawn in wains, an host
not to be numbered, had erewhile overthrown the hosts of the Cities of
the Plain, and had wrought evils scarce to be told of; and how they had
piled up the skulls of slaughtered folk into great hills beside the
city-gates, so that the sun might no longer shine into the streets; and
how because of the death and the rapine, grass had grown in the kings’
chambers, and the wolves had chased deer in the Temples of the Gods.
‘But,’ quoth he, ‘I know you, bold tillers of the soil, valiant scourers
of the Wild-wood, that the worst that can befall you will be to die under
shield, and that ye shall suffer no torment of the thrall. May the
undying Gods bless the threshold of this Gate, and oft may I come hither
to taste of your kindness! May your race, the uncorrupt, increase and
multiply, till your valiant men and clean maidens make the bitter sweet
and purify the earth!’
He spake smooth-tongued and smiling, handling the while the folds of his
fine scarlet gown, and belike he meant a full half of what he said; for
he was a man very eloquent of speech, and had spoken with kings, uncowed
and pleased with his speaking; and for that cause and his riches had he
been made chief of the chapmen. As he spake the heart of Face-of-god
swelled within him, and his cheek flushed; but Iron-face sat up straight
and proud, and a light smile played about his face, as he said gravely:
‘Friend of the Westland, I thank thee for the blessing and the kind word.
Such as we are, we are; nor do I deem that the very Gods shall change us.
And if they will be our friends, it is well; for we desire nought of them
save their friendship; and if they will be our foes, that also shall we
bear; nor will we curse them for doing that which their lives bid them to
do. What sayest thou, Face-of-god, my son?’
‘Yea, father,’ said Face-of-god, ‘I say that the very Gods, though they
slay me, cannot unmake my life that has been. If they do deeds, yet
shall we also do.’
The Outlander smiled as they spake, and bowed his head to Iron-face and
Face-of-god, and wondered at their pride of heart, marvelling what they
would say to the great men of the Cities if they should meet them.
But as they sat a-talking, there came two men running to them from the
Portway, their weapons all clattering upon them, and they heard withal
the sound of a horn winded not far off very loud and clear; and the
Chapman’s cheek paled: for in sooth he doubted that war was at hand,
after all he had heard of the Dalesmen’s dealings with the Dusky Men.
And all battle was loathsome to him, nor for all the gain of his chaffer
had he come into the Dale, had he known that war was looked for.
But the chiefs of the Dalesmen stirred not, nor changed countenance; and
some of the goodmen who were in the street nigh the Gate came forth to
see what was toward; for they also had heard the voice of the horn.
Then one of those messengers came up breathless, and stood before the
chiefs, and said:
‘New tidings, Alderman; here be weaponed strangers come into the Dale.’
The Alderman smiled on him and said: ‘Yea, son, and are they a great host
of men?’
‘Nay,’ said the man, ‘not above a score as I deem, and there is a woman
with them.’
‘Then shall we abide them here,’ said the Alderman, ‘and thou mightest
have saved thy breath, and suffered them to bring tidings of themselves;
since they may scarce bring us war. For no man desireth certain and
present death; and that is all that such a band may win at our hands in
battle to-day; and all who come in peace are welcome to us. What like
are they to behold?’
Said the man: ‘They are tall men gloriously attired, so that they seem
like kinsmen of the Gods; and they bear flowering boughs in their hands.’
The Alderman laughed, and said: ‘If they be Gods they are welcome indeed;
and they shall grow the wiser for their coming; for they shall learn how
guest-fain the Burgdale men may be. But if, as I deem, they be like unto
us, and but the children of the Gods, then are they as welcome, and it
may be more so, and our greeting to them shall be as their greeting to us
would be.’
Even as he spake the horn was winded nearer yet, and more loudly, and
folk came pouring out of the Gate to learn the tidings. Presently the
strangers came from off the Portway into the space before the Gate; and
their leader was a tall and goodly man of some thirty winters, in
glorious array, helm on head and sword by side, his surcoat green and
flowery like the spring meads. In his right hand he held a branch of the
blossomed black-thorn (for some was yet in blossom), and his left had
hold of the hand of an exceeding fair woman who went beside him: behind
him was a score of weaponed men in goodly attire, some bearing bows, some
long spears, but each bearing a flowering bough in hand.
The tall man stopped in the midst of the space, and the Alderman and they
with him stirred not; though, as for Face-of-god, it was to him as if
summer had come suddenly into the midst of winter, and for the very
sweetness of delight his face grew pale.
Then the new-comer drew nigh to the Alderman and said:
‘Hail to the Gate and the men of the Gate! Hail to the kindred of the
children of the Gods!’
But the Alderman stood up and spake: ‘And hail to thee, tall man! Fair
greeting to thee and thy company! Wilt thou name thyself with thine own
name, or shall I call thee nought save Guest? Welcome art thou, by
whatsoever name thou wilt be called. Here may’st thou and thy folk abide
as long as ye will.’
Said the new-comer: ‘Thanks have thou for thy greeting and for thy
bidding! And that bidding shall we take, whatsoever may come of it; for
we are minded to abide with thee for a while. But know thou, O Alderman
of the Dalesmen, that I am not sackless toward thee and thine. My name
is Folk-might of the Children of the Wolf, and this woman is the
Sun-beam, my sister, and these behind me are of my kindred, and are well
beloved and trusty. We are no evil men or wrong-doers; yet have we been
driven into sore straits, wherein men must needs at whiles do deeds that
make their friends few and their foes many. So it may be that I am thy
foeman. Yet, if thou doubtest of me that I shall be a baneful guest,
thou shalt have our weapons of us, and then mayest thou do thy will upon
us without dread; and here first of all is my sword!’
Therewith he cast down the flowering branch he was bearing, and pulled
his sword from out his sheath, and took it by the point, and held out the
hilt to Iron-face.
But the Alderman smiled kindly on him and said:
‘The blade is a good one, and I say it who know the craft of
sword-forging; but I need it not, for thou seest I have a sword by my
side. Keep your weapons, one and all; for ye have come amongst many and
those no weaklings: and if so be that thy guilt against us is so great
that we must needs fall on you, ye will need all your war-gear. But
hereof is no need to speak till the time of the Folk-mote, which will be
holden in three days’ wearing; so let us forbear this matter till then;
for I deem we shall have enough to say of other matters. Now,
Folk-might, sit down beside me, and thou also, Sun-beam, fairest of
women.’
Therewith he looked into her face and reddened, and said:
‘Yet belike thou hast a word of greeting for my son, Face-of-god, unless
it be so that ye have not seen him before?’
Then Face-of-god came forward, and took Folk-might by the hand and kissed
him; and he stood before the Sun-beam and took her hand, and the world
waxed a wonder to him as he kissed her cheeks; and in no wise did she
change countenance, save that her eyes softened, and she gazed at him
full kindly from the happiness of her soul.
Then Face-of-god said: ‘Welcome, Guests, who erewhile guested me so well:
now beginneth the day of your well-doing to the men of Burgdale;
therefore will we do to you as well as we may.’
Then Folk-might and the Sun-beam sat them down with the chieftains, one
on either side of the Alderman, but Face-of-god passed forth to the
others, and greeted them one by one: of them was Wood-father and his
three sons, and Bow-may; and they rejoiced exceedingly to see him, and
Bow-may said:
‘Now it gladdens my heart to look upon thee alive and thriving, and to
remember that day last winter when I met thee on the snow, and turned
thee back from the perilous path to thy pleasure, which the Dusky Men
were besetting, of whom thou knewest nought. Yea, it was merry that
tide; but this is better. Nay, friend,’ she said, ‘it availeth thee
nought to strive to look out of the back of thine head: let it be enough
to thee that she is there. Thou art now become a great chieftain, and
she is no less; and this is a meeting of chieftains, and the folk are
looking on and expecting demeanour of them as of the Gods; and she is not
to be dealt with as if she were the daughter of some little goodman with
whom one hath made tryst in the meadows. There! hearken to me for a
while; at least till I tell thee that thou seemest to me to hold thine
head higher than when last I saw thee; though that is no long time
either. Hast thou been in battle again since that day?’
‘Nay,’ he said, ‘I have stricken no stroke since I slew two felons within
the same hour that we parted. And thou, sister, what hast thou done?’
She said: ‘The grey goose hath been on the wing thrice since that,
bearing on it the bane of evil things.’
Then said Wood-wise: ‘Kinswoman, tell him of that battle, since thou art
deft with thy tongue.’
She said: ‘Weary on battles! it is nought save this: twelve days agone
needs must every fighting-man of the Wolf, carle or of queen, wend away
from Shadowy Vale, while those unmeet for battle we hid away in the caves
at the nether end of the Dale: but Sun-beam would not endure that night,
and fared with us, though she handled no weapon. All this we had to do
because we had learned that a great company of the Dusky Men were
over-nigh to our Dale, and needs must we fall upon them, lest they should
learn too much, and spread the story. Well, so wise was Folk-might that
we came on them unawares by night and cloud at the edge of the Pine-wood,
and but one of our men was slain, and of them not one escaped; and when
the fight was over we counted four score and ten of their arm-rings.’
He said: ‘Did that or aught else come of our meeting with them that
morning?’
‘Nay,’ she said, ‘nought came of it: those we slew were but a straying
band. Nay, the four score and ten slain in the Pine-wood knew not of
Shadowy Vale belike, and had no intent for it: they were but scouring the
wood seeking their warriors that had gone out from Silver-dale and came
not aback.’
‘Thou art wise in war, Bow-may,’ said Face-of-god, and he smiled withal.
Bow-may reddened and said: ‘Friend Gold-mane, dost thou perchance deem
that there is aught ill in my warring? And the Sun-beam, she naysayeth
the bearing of weapons; though I deem that she hath little fear of them
when they come her way.’
Said Face-of-god: ‘Nay, I deem no ill of it, but much good. For I
suppose that thou hast learned overmuch of the wont of the Dusky Men, and
hast seen their thralls?’
She knitted her brows, and all the merriment went out of her face at that
word, and she answered: ‘Yea, thou hast it; for I have both seen their
thralls and been in the Dale of thralldom; and how then can I do less
than I do? But for thee, I perceive that thou hast been nigh unto our
foes and hast fallen in with their thralls; and that is well; for whatso
tales we had told thee thereof it is like thou wouldst not have trowed
in, as now thou must do, since thou thyself hast seen these poor folk.
But now I will tell thee, Gold-mane, that my soul is sick of these
comings and goings for the slaughter of a few wretches; and I long for
the Great Day of Battle, when it will be seen whether we shall live or
die; and though I laugh and jest, yet doth the wearing of the days wear
me.’
He looked kindly on her and said: ‘I am War-leader of this Folk, and
trust me that the waiting-tide shall not be long; wherefore now, sister,
be merry to-day, for that is but meet and right; and cast aside thy care,
for presently shalt thou behold many new friends. But now meseemeth
overlong have ye been standing before our Gate, and it is time that ye
should see the inside of our Burg and the inside of our House.’
Indeed by this time so many men had come out of the street that the place
before the Gate was all thronged, and from where he stood Face-of-god
could scarce see his father, or Folk-might and the Sun-beam and the
chieftains.
So he took Wood-father by the hand, and close behind him came Wood-wise
and Bow-may, and he cried out for way that he might speak with the
Alderman, and men gave way to them, and he led those new-comers close up
to the gate-seats of the Elders, and as he clove the press smiling and
bright-eyed and happy, all gazed on him; but the Sun-beam, who was
sitting between Iron-face and the Westland Chapman, and who heretofore
had been agaze with eyes beholding little, past whose ears the words went
unheard, and whose mind wandered into thoughts of things unfashioned yet,
when she beheld him close to her again, then, taken unawares, her eyes
caressed him, and she turned as red as a rose, as she felt all the
sweetness of desire go forth from her to meet him. So that, he
perceiving it, his voice was the clearer and sweeter for the inward joy
he felt, as he said:
‘Alderman, meseemeth it is now time that we bring our Guests into the
House of our Fathers; for since they are in warlike array, and we are no
longer living in peace, and I am now War-leader of the Dale, I deem it
but meet that I should have the guesting of them. Moreover, when we are
come into our House, I will bid thee look into thy treasury, that thou
may’st find therein somewhat which it may pleasure us to give to our
Guests.’
Said Iron-face: ‘Thou sayest well, son, and since the day is now worn
past noon, and these folk are but just come from the Waste, therefore
such as we have of meat and drink abideth them. And surely there is
within our house a coffer which belongeth to thee and me; and forsooth I
know not why we keep the treasures hoarded therein, save that it be for
this cause: that if we were to give to our friends that which we
ourselves use and love, which would be of all things pleasant to us, if
we gave them such goods, they would be worn and worsened by our use of
them. For this reason, therefore, do we keep fair things which we use
not, so that we may give them to our friends.
‘Now, Guests, both of the Waste and the Westland, since here is no
Gate-thing or meeting of the Dale-wardens, and we sit here but for our
pleasure, let us go take our pleasure within doors for a while, if it
seem good to you.’
Therewith he arose, and the folk made way for him and his Guests; and
Folk-might went on the right hand of Iron-face, and beside him went the
Chapman, who looked on him with a half-smile, as though he knew somewhat
of him. But on the other side of Iron-face went the Sun-beam, whose hand
he held, and after these came Face-of-god, leading in the rest of the
New-comers, who yet held the flowery branches in their hands.
Now so much had Face-of-god told the Dalesmen, that they deemed they all
knew these men for their battle-fellows of whom they had heard tell; and
this the more as the men were so goodly and manly of aspect, especially
Folk-might, so that they seemed as if they were nigh akin to the Gods.
As for the Sun-beam, they knew not how to praise her beauty enough, but
they said that they had never known before how fair the Gods might be.
So they raised a great shout of welcome as the men came through the Gate
into the Burg, and all men turned their backs on the booths, so eager
were they to behold closely these new friends.
But as the Guests went from the Gate to the House of the Face, going very
slowly because of the press, there in the front of the throng stood the
Bride with the women of the Runaways, whom she had caused to be clad very
fairly; and she was fain to do them a pleasure by bringing them to sight
of these new-comers, of whom she had not heard who they were, though she
had heard the cry that strangers were at hand. So there she stood
smiling a little with the pleasure of showing a fair sight to the poor
people, as folk do with children. But when she saw those twain going on
each side of the Alderman she knew them at once; and when the Sun-beam,
who was on his left side, passed so close to her that she could see the
very smoothness and dainty fashion of her skin, then was she astonied,
and the world seemed strange to her, and till they were gone by, and for
a while afterwards, she knew not where she was nor what she did, though
it seemed to her as if she still saw the face of that fair woman as in a
picture.
But the Sun-beam had noted her at first, even amongst the fair women of
Burgstead, and she so steady and bright beside the wandering timorous
eyes and lowering faces of the thralls. But suddenly, as eye met eye,
she saw her face change; she saw her cheek whiten, her eyes stare, and
her lips quiver, and she knew at once who it was; for she had not seen
her before as Folk-might had. Then the Sun-beam cast her eyes adown,
lest her compassion might show in her face, and be a fresh grief to her
that had lost the wedding and the love; and so she passed on.
As for Folk-might, he had seen her at once amongst all that folk as he
came into the street, and in sooth he was looking for her; and when he
saw her face change, as the sight of the Sun-beam smote upon her heart,
his own face burned with shame and anger, and he looked back at her as he
went toward the House. But she saw him not, nor noted him; and none
deemed it strange that he looked long on the Bride, the treasure of
Burgstead. But for some while Folk-might was few-spoken and sharp-spoken
amongst the chieftains; for he was slow to master his longing and his
wrath.
So when all the Guests had entered the door of the House of the Face, the
Alderman turned back, and, standing on the threshold of his House, spake
unto the throng:
‘Men of the Dale, and ye Outlanders who may be here, know that this is a
happy day; for hither have come to us Guests, men of the kindred of the
Gods, and they are even those of whom Face-of-god my son hath told you.
And they are friends of our friends and foes of our foes. These men are
now in my House, as is but right; but when they come forth I look to you
to cherish them in the best way ye know, and make much of them, as of
those who may help us and who may by us be holpen.’
Therewith he went in again and into the Hall, and bade show the
New-comers to the daïs; and wine of the best, and meat such as was to
hand, was set before them. He bade men also get ready high feast as
great as might be against the evening; and they did his bidding
straightway.